


A First Time for Everything

by Monochromehobo



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Crowley and Aziraphale are utterly incompetent parents, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Other, Parenthood, and just utterly incompetent in general, dad crowley, ineffable parents, raising a kid together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monochromehobo/pseuds/Monochromehobo
Summary: In a moment of weakness Crowley found himself falling into the arms of a human. The consequences of his actions catch up with him as he learns not only how to be a father, but how to give and receive love the human way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the 60's. Plan on making this about 5 chapters.

Crowley held the infant in his arms, brushing the soft black curls from her head. His tongue absentmindedly flicked and made a soft hissing sound. He was unsure how long he had been looking at the baby but the downy grey feathers on tiny wings confirmed his parenthood. Crowley had hardly believed it when he got the call. He remembered Sue; they’d had a run in nearly a year ago. It had been the night Aziraphale had given him the holy water, Crowley had launched himself into a self destructive binge, going to bar after bar.

He and Sue had seen each other around, she did crimes, he was a demon, it was bound to happen. She’d listened to Crowley talk about Aziraphale for hours without complaint. Something about her reminded him of Aziraphale, someone selfless enough to just listen for hours. (Or in Aziraphale’s case centuries.) He found himself in bed with her, which as a rule he didn’t do, he wasn’t that kind of demon. Sue had been the next best thing to what he really wanted; however, the person he really wanted was half way across London by now and had no interest in seeing him. 

And what a shock it was when he got a call from the Catholic hospital outside of Liverpool that one Sue White, had named him the father of her baby before her unfortunate passing, and that he’d better hurry down soon. He’d assumed she’d mistakenly named him on the birth certificate, she couldn’t have known any better. He figured he wouldn’t get in too much trouble with hell for arranging for her funeral expenses to be paid and the baby to be adopted. Crowley had a soft spot for her and figured that it was least he could do for the poor confused woman, especially knowing what where she was going was like. 

There was no doubt in Crowley’s mind that he would arrange for the child to be swiftly taken away and then he could wash his hands of the whole situation. Demons, or Angels for that matter, couldn’t reproduce. Demon children were just a human legend; an excuse to kill deviant individuals and witches. As was such, Crowley was in for quite a shock when he saw the child; unmistakably occult. This was going to be a much bigger ordeal than he had thought. Starting with the staff. They’d been fretting over the child, debating if removing the wings would be the best course of action, when Crowley waved a hand, erasing their memories all the way back to when the mother had arrived.

With a second snap he’d taken care of everything. Well almost everything that is. There was still the glaringly obvious, kicking, screaming problem laying in the back seat of the Bentley. “Shit! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” Crowley swore and pounded his fists on the hood of the car until small specks of blood had worked their way through the skin on his knuckles. He obviously ensured his beloved vehicle incurred no damage during his temper tantrum. Crowley wondered what he had done beyond his fall from heaven that had made him deserve this shit storm. He’d found himself driving the Bentley as fast as it would go back to London, the child tucked neatly under one arm.

“Oh dear, it looks like we are in quite the pickle.”

“Aziraphale. It much more looks like a pickle that I have worked myself into,” The demon put emphasis on the word, mocking Aziraphale. “You can certainly ask me to leave with this if you would like. I’m not even sure why I came to you. Certainly this is moving to fast for you.”

“What, and let you kill the thing?”

Crowley lifted his gaze from the child to the angel standing across the room, his yellow eyes blinking slow. The look he gave Aziriphale was incredulous, “You really think I’d kill my own child? Rather morbid isn’t it Angel? I might be a demon but I’m no monster.” Crowley’s usual sarcastic humor fell flat in the moment.

“No of course not Crowley! But my dear boy, it does seem that this is an unprecedented situation. And besides, it’s not like you have a lot of experience with,” Aziraphale waved his hand in the direction of the infant. He began pacing the bookstore for something that might be relevant. “What will you do about the mother? Certainly she had family.”

“I miracled her a nice resting place, Angel. She wasn’t on speaking terms with her mother, and her father is long dead.”

Aziraphale was surprised by the level of care Crowley seemed to put into the issue. The demon rarely bothered to learn names let alone stories. Aziraphale felt simultaneously warm towards Crowley and an ugly feeling welling up in his chest. Angels don’t get jealous, but it would seem that Aziraphale was an exception.

Crowley couldn’t think of anything to do but to go to Aziriphale, despite the hurt he still felt at his rejection. It’s not like there was anybody else in heaven or hell that would help him out of this one. He’d truly fucked himself this time. How could this have happened, and how the hell was he going to hide this. He continued to stare at the child, turning her over, as if inspecting a strange rock or coin. He brushed his fingers over her back vaguely thinking that he’s glad she didn’t get his eyes. Indeed they were yellow, but not the snakish slits of his own eyes, they were round and a muted tone. If it were not for the wings she could almost pass for human. Almost.

Crowley listened to Aziraphale’s pacing suddenly come to a halt. He flipped through a few more pages before coming to a conclusion. “Well. My resources have only confirmed what we knew to be true already,” Aziraphale bit the nail on his thumb, stumbling over his words. “So Sue was a human,” Crowley nodded, urging him to continue, “And you are a demon.”

“Last time I checked I was an aardvark,” Crowley said it without thinking, but it still brought a small smile to the angel’s face.

“Oh haha. Very funny,” he gave a look to the side one might call an eye roll. Aziraphale definitely wouldn’t call it that. “It would appear that only god can create an ethereal being, or in this case occult. So therefore, this has to be part of the ineffable plan.”

“Angel, it’s all part of the ineffable plan that’s the point. What we need to know is the why and the how of this ineffable fuck up.”

“Well, that’s where it gets a bit hairy. It seems that somehow you’ve broken that rule.”

“S’ not like it’s a first for me, breaking rules.”

Aziraphale considered his words carefully before speaking, “Yes. For some reason or another, the almighty decided that rule doesn’t apply to you. Or you are more powerful than we think. Either way it would seem that she decided this needed to happen. Reasons unknown.”

“Right right, moving in mysterious ways, talking to no one. Either way it would seem I’m not your average aardvark.” Crowley raised the child to eye level speaking to it more so than Aziriphale, “Well. What now?”

“You should probably name her. We can’t call her ‘the infant’ forever.”

“I meant what are we going to do about our respective head offices,” He quickly changed the topic back to more urgent matters, “Again you should not be involved in this. I shouldn’t have come to you with this, I’m sure that this is one hundred percent going too fast for you and not something I deserve help on,” the angel made a tutting sound, like he was going to interrupt. “Listen Angel. I got my self into this situation and it would probably be the good thing to leave me deal with it or even tell yours, or mine, or whoever about this.”

Aziriphale didn’t let Crowley get in another word, “No. Maybe the holy thing would be to leave you, to tell, oh whoever. The good thing would be to help you, and help this person who had no part in this and does not deserve whatever might happen if I do the holy thing.” Aziraphale picked up the child holding it at arms length, in a position that would most certainly at least injure a human baby.

“Aziraphale. You could fall for this,” the tone of the room shifted at that.

“For what? Protecting an innocent child? Helping my friend of 6,000 years? Someone who has performed nearly as many miracles as I.”

“For helping a demon! Two demons!” He couldn’t help the edge to his voice, as he moved to take the wriggling half-demon back from him.

“And how is this any different from what I did in the garden? Giving my sword to protect that couple. In my eyes this is no different, I’m sure the almighty would agree,” he maintained his hold on the girl, bringing her closer, “As it is, part of the ineffable plan.” Crowley merely blinked at him, shocked at the fierceness in the Angel’s voice. 

Just as Aziraphale placed her on his shoulder he made a disgusted face, handing her back to Crowley. “It would seem she’s, uh, defecated.” Crowley laughed, until she was close enough for him to smell.

Nearly 2 hours, and several parenting books later an angel and a demon had a trolley full of everything on offer for babies. Aziraphale had insisted on getting one of everything, just in case. Crowley had slapped some clothes on the kid straight from the rack, much to the upset of the shocked manager. “Oh relax we’re going to pay for them,” he snapped in the direction of the poor person. They’d managed to make it to the register with only one crying episode from the infant; Aziraphale had managed to calm the child simply by taking it from Crowley and gently speaking to it about nonsense. If you asked Crowley it hadn’t hurt his feelings. That would be a lie.

Crowley ripped the tags off the baby clothes, handing them to the cashier as she added up their total. He miracled the the correct amount into his wallet before handing over the cash. Crowley loaded the car full, as Aziraphale sat in the front seat, holding the child awkwardly, still speaking in that tone, lest the child start another crying fit. So far Crowley had been a father for less than 6 hours and he has learned exactly one thing. And that was, that he is not good with children.

Yellow eyes flicked back and forth between the diagram and what he was doing. He tried again, folding the cloth slightly different this time. “Oh angel there’s no use. It’s like doing origami.” Crowley looked smug as he added on, “That’s one of the ones I invented you know.” Crowley threw down the pins he had been holding, giving up. “Why can’t I just,” he snapped his fingers, pantomiming a miracle.

“My dear, do you plan on miracling her diapers on every time? That would be rather suspicious to both our parties,” Aziraphale took another look at the diagram before reaching around Crowley to try for himself. He folded one left, and then right, and then down; and it was too loose around the legs. Aziraphale’s lips fell into a frown.

Crowley fought back a laugh, “See it’s not as easy as it looks!” The demon looked down at his daughter, her yellow eyes blinking up at him, tiny fist waving slightly. He didn’t understand how Aziriphale could connect with her so easily. Maybe he was incapable because, well, he was a demon after all. But if that was it, how could Aziraphale connect so easily with her when she was half demon herself. Not that Aziraphale had trouble connecting with demons in the first place, his Angelic love for others seemed to have no limits, unlike other angels. 

Crowley held her up again, admiring his work. It actually stayed up this time, no gaps, and it even looked like the picture. Kind of. Aziraphale beamed at him, holding up an outfit to put on her. “Oh that! No way.”

“What? I thought it looked rather sporting.”

“Dungarees?” Crowley looked positively affronted by the suggestion, “Really Aziraphale? Dungarees? On a demon?”

“Half demon. And a baby at that!” He said pointedly, putting the clothes back in the bag and trading Crowley for the baby, “What’s your suggestion then?”

The demon rifled through the bag, frowning at the options. “Don’t you think these are all rather,” there was a pause as he looked up, “Bright?”

“Well I’m sure they didn’t have a demon’s sensibilities in mind when creating a line of clothing for human infants.”

“Ah... well. This one should do then,” Crowley pulled back out the dungarees and matching shirt with a sigh.

Aziraphale gave a satisfied smirk, handing back Crowley’s daughter in exchange for the dungarees. He touched the small wings, looking back at the clothes. “Let me just make a few adjustments. Do you have any thread and a needle?” Crowley sighed and led him to a drawer in the kitchen. 

Aziraphale watched Crowley walk back to the living room, a fondness growing in his heart at the sight of the demon so concerned about somebody else. An uneasy feeling set over him; this was going to be very, very difficult to keep secret. Although the conditions weren’t ideal he had to admit he was glad to see the Bentley pull up outside of the bookstore. He’d doubted he’d see Crowley for at least another century, and had started to regret turning down his offer. He had certainly returned the demon’s feelings, but did not share his intrepid qualities. Heaven checked in much more than hell did.

Crowley sat on the sofa laying the baby beside him. Between the adrenaline and how much fun he was having making fun of each other with Aziraphale, he nearly forgot how absolutely fucked he was, just how little he knew and just how scared shitless he was. He looked over at the crib, Aziraphale had allowed him to miracle that one. He had been so lost in thought he hardly noticed Aziraphale returning with the altered clothes.

As soon as Aziraphale slid the clothes onto her and gently pulled her wings through the new holes she began to cry, face turning beat red. “Oh dear,” He held her up, looking to Crowley for guidance. Crowley merely stuttered and made some strange noises in response. “I think it’s the clothes, maybe they’re not fitting right. The books say they cry when they need something or are uncomfortable.” The angel tested his theory, taking off the dungarees. The screaming was unrelenting. “Oh dear,” Aziraphale repeated, handing the child back over to Crowley.

After about 3 hours of trial and error, an angel and a demon had a still screaming child, and some very angry neighbors. Not that any of Crowley’s neighbors would ever be brave enough to knock on Crowley’s door, let alone tell him off.

Aziraphale wiped the sweat from his brow, sitting down on the sofa. His eyes drifted to where Crowley was frantically rocking the child back and forth. “I dunno angel. I really dunno what it is,” he looked at Aziraphale with desperate, pleading eyes.

Aziraphale continued rifling through the items they’d gotten earlier in the day. Picking up a can labeled ‘formula’, and quickly reading over the back. “This is the only thing we haven’t tried. If it doesn’t work I may consider smiting the child.” Aziraphale made it as directed and held the cup up to the baby’s lips, immediately spilling it on her, causing an increase in the volume of the screaming, if that was at all possible.

“Oh angel! That can’t be right. Read the directions again,” Crowley sounded exasperated as he spoke, and replaced the child’s clothes.

Aziraphale came back with the formula in a different container. This time when he held it up to the baby’s lips she took it immediately. Crowley looked at Aziraphale with wide eyes and mouthed out ‘yes!’, pumping his free fist in the air. After what seemed like only a few seconds the infant’s eyes began to drift closed and Crowley set her in the crib, taking a few extra seconds to view his daughter. He heard Aziraphale praising the creativity of the human invention of baby bottles in the background.

He flopped down onto the sofa next to the angel. “Aziraphale we are so fucked. Is it too late to consider a smiting?”

Despite laughing at Crowley’s joke, he took on a more serious tone, “Crowley you’re the one who got yourself into this mess. It’s part of the ineffable plan so there’s no use trying to change that.” Aziraphale chuckled slightly, “Plus a smiting would certainly draw our superior’s attention to us.” He couldn’t resist the urge to slide a comforting hand onto the demon’s knee. 

Crowley looked to where Aziraphale’s hand rested, he laughed, supporting his head with a hand. “I was thinking about Angela.”

“As the name for the baby?”

“No as a new name for myself.” Crowley rolled his eyes and then looked to Aziraphale, “Yes as the name for the baby. What d’ya think?”

Aziraphale considered it for a moment, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at her. “I like it. Angela. It’s a bit witchy though innit?”

“Yeah. Sue was always on the witchy side though; she would have liked it.”

“Not very demonic. Angela doesn’t really inspire fear. Quite the opposite really.”

“What would you name her then? Crawly?” Crowley’s words dripped with more hurt than he’d like to admit.

“Angela is nice Crowley. And a middle name?” He looked over expectantly.

“I can barely come up with my own middle name why don’t you do it?” Crowley got up to pour them some wine, and leave Aziraphale to think on it.

“What about Eleanor? Never met a bad Eleanor,” He took the wine with a curt ‘thank you’ before looking to Crowley to continue their conversation.

“Of course you’d pick Eleanor!” Crowley laughed taking his seat.

“What?” Aziraphale wanted to know what exactly was so funny about him choosing Eleanor. He’d asked for his opinion hadn’t he?

“It’s just traditional. Anyways it’s great. It’ll do just fine.”

Aziraphale tipped his glass forward to clink with Crowley’s, “To Angela Eleanor Crowley.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic is only going to get softer from here. I'm so soft for these two, help.

It’d been half past midnight when Aziraphale finally stood up to leave. Crowley had put up much of a protest. “Oh no, no. You’re leaving?”

“Well I certainly can’t spend the night here Crowley.”

“What am I supposed to do If she wakes up? I’ve got no idea what I’m doing.”

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley firmly by the shoulder, “My dear boy, you’ll figure it out. You’re her father. I can’t be here all the time and you know it. However, if you need me I’m just a phone call away.”

And just like that Crowley was alone with his daughter.

It was about this time that Crowley would usually succumb to the human temptation of slumber to pass some time; however, He now doubted he would ever sleep again. Had Hastur come to check up on him, well it would be disastrous for one of them, and Crowley happened to be the one in possession of holy water. He paced back and forth for what must have been hours, contemplating his situation. Crowley looked upwards to heaven, speaking directly to god as he often did on occasions like this,“What’s your plan god, huh?” When no response came, the demon sighed, kicking the side of the sofa. And as if god had decided to cut Crowley some slack, he was struck with an idea. He began to form some semblance of a plan, eagerly awaiting Aziraphale’s input on the matter.

Approximately three hours after Aziraphale left Angela began screaming again, cheeks red and her fists clenched. Crowley awkwardly picked up the child, always holding her at arms length. He cursed quietly, taking much longer to change a diaper than it should have taken. After giving her a bottle, she’d finally relented her screaming, but still her dull yellow eyes remained wide and blinking. Every time Crowley had tried to set her down she yet again began her crying. He looked about, eyes settling on a rocking chair Aziraphale had insisted upon.

Crowley sat in the rocking chair experimenting with how he held his baby, bringing her close to his chest and rocking gently. The demon had been so caught up in figuring out what the hell he was going to do he hadn’t had a moment to think about anything else. Aziraphale had said something about talking to babies, so he decided to give it a shot. “You’re putting me in a really tricky situation you know that?” Crowley couldn’t quite bring himself to speak in the baby voice Aziraphale had used when interacting with her.

He sighed running his finger lightly over the infant’s cheek, “Aziraphale must think me an idiot. He wouldn’t be wrong.” He rocked and talked to the infant until her eyes grew heavy. When he’d run out of things to say he decided to sing; a beautiful tune in a long dead language he’d once spoken every day. He’d sung the same song in the garden of Eden as he tended to the plants. He vaguely wondered if he’d sang since he’d fallen, he couldn’t remember.

Crowley had lost track of time still rocking back and forth, the song not over yet, it was almost 10 years long after all. Angela had long since fallen asleep but for some reason Crowley was tempted to continue holding her, staring at her, caressing her soft curls and downey feathers. He just couldn’t bring himself to put her down.

He’d been pulled from his trance by Aziraphale gently tapping on his shoulder, startling him nearly enough to make him throw the infant. Nearly. Angela merely blinked before falling right back asleep.

Aziraphale’s cheeks were tight with trying to hold back a grin, both at how he’d startled Crowley and at the love he could sense. Crowley’s love, different than what he usually sensed and not directed at him but rather the small infant clutched to his chest. “I haven’t heard that one in a long time. Was that...”

Crowley knew of course Aziraphale was referring to the fact he was singing in angelic, a hot blush rising in his cheeks. “No,” Crowley lied.

Aziraphale’s eyes softened, feeling an overwhelming ... something well up in his chest, “Surprised you remember. Didn’t think demons were supposed to be able to.”

“Surprised me as well.”

“Oh dear you look dreadful,” Aziraphale said pulling Crowley’s turtle neck straight, his fingers gently brushing over his neck. Crowley’s neck felt lighting hot where he’d been touched. “Why don’t you go tend to your plants. I’ll hold Angela for a bit.” The Angel suggested, knowing full well the state of Crowley’s plants.

Crowley hesitated before handing over the baby, embarrassed at the moment of irrationality he had. Of course nothing bad would happen. He’ll just be in the other room, and it’s Aziraphale he’s leaving her with after all. He resisted the urge to look back at the image of Aziraphale cooing at his daughter, he shook his head, embarrassed he was falling to the temptation of a baby.

Walking into the room Crowley was shocked at the sight, his usually green filled room was full of color, flowers of all different kinds sprouted from plants they certainly shouldn’t be. He gasped, going about touching the new growth. Crowley had accidentally caused the flowers to bloom overnight. He yelled the plants back into submission, the beautiful hues shrinking back and the room receding to it’s former lush green.

Crowley paced in front of Aziraphale, who sat feeding the baby on the sofa, his eyes followed the demon intently, drifting away from the task at hand. 

“You want to... what?”

“Angel I know it sounds ridiculous, but in theory-“

“No Crowley! It’s marvelous really. It’d only take a small miracle, but you’d better get it right, we’d only have one shot.”


End file.
